


Forever

by CGotAnAccount



Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [14]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boys In Love, Happy Anniversary Sheith, Husbands, M/M, SHEITH - Freeform, Sheith invented love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: The blindfold whispers against his skin, silky in a way he normally associates with more private activities, but Keith is surefooted as his boots crunch along the earth....Shiro can barely calm the racing beat of his heart, pounding out a frantic tattoo as it tries to escape from his chest.Reflections on love, one year later.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: ADVENTure Is Out There! [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558660
Comments: 35
Kudos: 86





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> The blindfold whispers against his skin, silky in a way he normally associates with more private activities, but Keith is surefooted as his boots crunch along the earth.
> 
> ...
> 
> Shiro can barely calm the racing beat of his heart, pounding out a frantic tattoo as it tries to escape from his chest.
> 
> Reflections on love, one year later.

The blindfold whispers against his skin, silky in a way he normally associates with more private activities, but Keith is surefooted as his boots crunch along the earth.

He has no reason to be worried about where his next step lands, no stumble or drop to fear – though he can feel the wind whipping through his hair and howling in the distance. A few years ago he might have laughed at trying this sort of thing, likened it to Allura's headset games and suggested they sing Kumbaya around a campfire for a trust exercise instead.

But the hand in his is a steady weight, guiding him along with an unshakable certainty of safe arrival. Even without the blindfold Keith would walk this path, eyes closed of his own volition, because he knows whose hands will catch him should he stumble.

They've never let him down before.

Beside him he can hear the strains of gentle nonsense being hummed as they walk, almost carried away on the wind. It's a familiar tune, one he's fallen asleep to in damp caves, abandoned bases, hotel rooms, and his own bed. A rough thing, wordless maybe, but no less soothing for it.

Keith's very own pied piper, leading him gladly into what may come, as long as they face it together.

His heartbeat is steady as they climb – he can tell that much about the journey at least, even without his sight – but he can't deny the anticipation singing in his blood. They could be coming out here for nothing more than the view and Keith would be joyful down to his bones just to have the time together.

Just to know they made it even this far.

A few years ago this sort of thing would seem laughably unattainable. A day off, just to wander around, out of contact from those who might need them? An entire cycle spent hand in hand? The ghost of a smile brushing against his knuckles every time they slow?

Unthinkable. Spared solely for the deepest corners of the night, when Keith let himself dream about things out of his grasp. Things better than the stars and harder to reach.

The fingers twined in his twitch and the humming peters out, making way for a breath that's nearly nervous.

Ridiculous.

“Well, here we are.”

The deep bass rumbles as it shifts behind him, their fingers untangle carefully so deft hands can untie the knot in the silk. It falls away with a shiver against his skin, but Keith keeps his eyes shut as he turns around. He lets his hands find the planes of a familiar chest and slide up until he can cup a strong jaw. His thumbs trace the plush bow of a lip, then up further still to graze the smooth edge of a scar.

He opens his eyes to warm grey, shining down on him in the light of the afternoon sun.

“There you are.”

No, he can't manage worry when he knows who is by his side, now and forever. He can't fear life's stumbles with that hand wrapped around his own. There's no room to question the most steadfast thing in his life.

Not when those hands rise to cup his face in return, tracing over his scar with reverence he can hardly bear.

Not when the cool brush of metal against his own skin matches the glimmer resting below his beloved's eyes.

Their rings may melt and their lives may end - Keith has already seen such things come and go.

But this.

Them.

He knows is forever.

* * *

Shiro can barely calm the racing beat of his heart, pounding out a frantic tattoo as it tries to escape from his chest.

He can't blame it – he'd want to burst out and throw himself at the feet of this beautiful man too. Keith's face is nothing but serene, the hint of a smile curling at his lips as he walks sure and steady beside him. Shiro envies him in this moment, almost as much as he adores the man for everything he is and will always be. He's the eye of the hurricane and the storm itself in turns, ready to envelope Shiro in his absolute certainty with one arm and hold the world at bay with the other.

And Shiro loves him, more than anything in this life, or the next, or the last.

Loves him more than any gift could compare, than any words could convey, than any gesture could do justice. He'd rip his beating heart out and serve it to Keith on a platter, but he knows Keith would just tear out his own as a replacement without hesitation - just to save Shiro's heart the stutter.

Every glance at his lover and dip in the earth has the same effect anyway, sending his poor heart lurching into his throat with the worry that he'll let his world go tumbling into the dust.

But no, Keith is as surefooted as ever, padding along beside him like Shiro's lead is infallible – like the hand gripped in his own isn't clammy and probably too sweaty and beating his pulse through his fingers like a siren of panic. Keith just... walks along beside him, trusting. Always trusting.

The wind whips up through the canyons and sprays sand over the too-near for comfort lip of the cliff. He's glad for the blindfold covering Keith's face as the granules sting at his eyes.

They're nearing the place now, their place. The spot where he spent hours with a skittish cadet watching the sun dip low and earning his trust like he might've with a wild coyote. The spot where he'd looked into the eyes of a young man and saw the potential of what he might become, the spark and flame of his unquenchable spirit, and thought – _oh_.

The spot they'd stood a year ago as they traded words and bands.

A year of baited breath released. Of kisses, once uncertain, soon becoming the anchors of his day. Of names, spoken with bold fondness or whispered like benedictions in the dark into sweat slick skin and mussed hair.

A year of his life, spent with his reason for living.

And yet, he still trembles at the thought of this beautiful man giving himself to him so freely. Not a hesitant step or a wrinkle of his brow as he treads along the edge of a cliff – blind save for the hand in his own.

Shiro aches, overfull with a year's worth of emotion and gratitude that spills out in a low hum to settle his nerves.

The corner of Keith's mouth hitches ever upward, and Shiro knows his eyes are crinkling at the corners beneath the silk. He can hardly wait to see them.

He hardly needs to now, as they clear the last few paces to the outcropping that has seen all manner of their joy and their sorrows.

The hand in his squeezes once before Shiro lets it go with reluctance.

“Well, here we are.”

His shaking fingers lift to untie the silk cloth, hoping that his meager offering will suffice as a sacrifice to his deity.

There are no words in return, not for a heartbeat, or for two.

Then his love is turning in his arms, eyes still closed as calloused palms make their way across his chest, covering his heart beating double time.

Slim fingers cup his jaw, and the smile turned toward him curves ever upward. Thumbs stroke the stubble he tried to clean this morning, then his lips – cracked from nervous licking... until they shift toward the mar across his face, the scar Keith loves to press his lips against, as if it were an alter of gold worthy of praise and devotion.

The cool drag of the ring, set in its rightful place a year ago, grounds him as Keith's hands still.

He opens his eyes, nebulae set in marble, and strikes Shiro dead with the love in his gaze.

“There you are.”

And there Shiro will be, until the universe crumbles around them. Until their souls fly back to astral dust, destined to become binary stars.

Nothing else in his life will come close to the pleasure – the privilege – of seeing those eyes open again and again, and knowing that their hearts beat together.

Every morning, every day, every breath.

Forever.


End file.
